Loneliness has settled down inside and seems to want
to stay for quite awhile.
Trying to rid self of it, writing, riding, visiting
Mom's grave, nothing has even put a dent in it.
Hurting slows down a mind, tires one out, and leaves
you drained with loneliness still inside.
Drowning out the will of life, taking away whatever
care you have of yourself.
Will it be for all time or will you awaken tomorrow
without it?
Maybe life will be done tonight, not wanting it to end
on a note of loneliness as an only friend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem